


Sexy Silk

by musicalenchantment



Series: I can't deny the way he holds my hand... [2]
Category: Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Choking, Daddy Kink, Dirty Dancing, Dirty Talk, F/M, Language Kink, Lingerie Kink, Name-Calling, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Rough Sex, SugarDaddy!Nevada, Vaginal Fingering, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 00:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1708244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalenchantment/pseuds/musicalenchantment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever you let him in, the two of you were toxic, unstable, and inseparable. </p><p>You knew it wasn’t healthy. You didn’t even want to <i>think</i> about what your mother would say if she knew the kind of man you were willingly giving yourself up to. </p><p>Still, you never wanted to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sexy Silk

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as a continuation of 'Caught' or on its own. No pre-reading necessary!
> 
> *Disclaimer: I used Google Translate for the Spanish. If anything is wrong, please hit me up on my tumblr and I'll do my best to fix it.*
> 
> Enjoy. ;)

Thinking back, you’re not sure how you got in Nevada Ramirez’s good graces after your rocky start, but after some of the shit you’ve seen him do and been subjected to at his hands, you’re really fucking glad you are. He could make you disappear without a trace, and that both terrified and excited you.

He wasn’t a bad person to work for as long as you played your cards right, though work was probably _not_ what you'd call the things he had you doing now. You had started out innocently enough, running errands around the city, following up with clients and keeping track of his grunt workers. That was before the two of you had started fucking regularly, and well, now you didn’t do much more than get spoiled by the boss and travel around with him while he conducted his business.

But at least you got paid for it.

You found that he liked to keep a particularly close eye on you. Mostly because he liked to be in control of everything. More so because you _didn't_ let him control you. You took as much time as you wanted when he told you to be somewhere to meet him. You wore whatever the fuck you wanted, even when he had made sure you _knew_ his preference for whatever you were attending. Hell, you even went behind his back with a few things in the business and made some on-the-fly decisions with customers.

You knew he was watching you. But one thing was for certain; you were _not_ going to let Nevada Ramirez press his thumb down on you.

And he fucking _hated_ it.

Still, he couldn't get enough of you. Perhaps it was because you were defiant and brushed him off as much as you were allowed to get away with. Perhaps he just liked a challenge. Whatever the case, whenever you let him in, the two of you were toxic, unstable, and inseparable.

When you were in bed together he pushed you, further than you'd ever think you'd go on your own, exploring territory you thought existed only in fantasies and porn. Turns out Nevada was not only an intimidating man, but he came with more than his fair share of kinks. He had a penchant for public sex, loving to show you off, whisper dirty things in your ear, make you shift uncomfortably with arousal while you two sat across the table from customers, and then fuck you in the bathroom. He liked to choke you and manhandle you and sink his fingers into places they didn't belong as foreplay. When you messed up, he liked to tie you up and spank you until you were a sobbing, begging, apologizing mess and then give it to you nice and slow and deep as a reward.

His favorite was when you wore stockings and corsets and lace panties. He insisted on you wearing a garter belt. He'd even gone so far as to buy you an entire new set of lingerie in beautiful, rich fabrics, skimpy cuts, and dark colors just to indulge himself; though he'd made it very clear that if you wore them for anyone else, he was _not_ going to play nice. _That_ you never challenged, and you didn’t want to. While you found this relationship to be more than you’d ever intended, it worked well for you both. You wouldn’t intentionally fuck that up.

All that was aside from the fact that you didn’t want to know what he’d do if you did.

Sleeping with Nevada also happened to inadvertently bring out your own set of kinks hiding deep in your closet. You found you liked it when he fucked you with all his clothes on. Feeling his leather jacket pressed under your knees as his mouth pleasured you was more than enough to get you off, and he knew it (and exploited it in back alleys and in the backseat of his car). You liked it when he left marks on you; reddened flesh where his lips had been on your breasts and thighs, bruises on your hip bones where he held you just a little too tightly. You liked feeling him mark you with his release; the wetness burning hot across your skin serving as a reminder that even though he couldn’t control you _outside_ of his bedroom, _inside_ of it you were his.

You knew it wasn’t healthy. You didn’t even want to think about what your mother would say if she knew the kind of man you were willingly giving yourself up to.

Still, you never wanted to stop.

You liked feeling his eyes on you after you finished fucking, as you climbed out of bed and dressed while he smoked a cigarette.

You liked watching him sit at his table with a glass of scotch and his money spread out in front of him, cigar hanging from his lips, the smoke curling around him as he counted, deep in concentration.

You liked climbing into the shower and pressing against him, feeling the water sliding between your bodies as he lifted you against the wall. You liked the cold of the tile against your back as he slid into you with his lips at your neck.

Your favorite was the way he took over you completely when you let him. You suspected that was his favorite part too.

 

One thing he did fully allow you to indulge in was going out on the weekends. You usually found yourself following him to various sketchy businesses on the weekend nights anyway, just so he could survey his turf and check in on customers. So when you jokingly asked him if the two of you could go out dancing while you were out one weekend, he agreed, smirking, and without batting an eye. You didn't think he'd actually do it. At least not without some sort of ulterior motive behind it.

When you pulled up to one of the swankier clubs in the area a few weeks later wearing a body hugging black dress with your black stockings and your highest pair of heels, all as per his request, you figured you were there on business. He liked to use you as a distraction sometimes, so the outfit request didn’t phase you.

"Nevada, what are we doing _here_?" You asked lowly, giving him a look as he offered you a hand and helped you out of the car. This was much too ritzy; you didn’t think his reach went quite this far.

"We have some things to attend to," he answered dismissively, looking away and motioning for his men to leave the two of you. You rolled your eyes slightly, making sure not to let him see. He only 'sent them away' to make you feel more comfortable, but you knew they were always lurking somewhere just out of sight. Nevada valued nothing more than his own life, and he didn't like to get his hands dirty if he could help it.

"And I wanted to treat you, _cariño_ ," he purred into your ear as his fingers found their way around your waist and pulled you tightly to his side. He landed a peck to your temple as he led you through the doors with his palm on your back.

The lights inside were dim, adding to the seductive ambience, and you could hear the pound of the music from further inside. You watched curiously as he took VIP bracelets from the woman working the door. He snapped one on your wrist and you examined it as you walked further into the club. It was one of those cheap self-adhesive bracelets like they gave out at fairs. You searched Nevada's face for an explanation but he offered none and instead maneuvered you to the bar and set about ordering drinks.

Your wheels were still turning as you sipped your Captain and Coke from your seat and glanced around the room. Nevada had left momentarily to attend to... whatever it was he was supposed to be doing this evening. You were actually surprised that your visit hadn't been explained to you; he always made sure to take you aside, at least for a moment, and give you a heads up.

He returned and you jumped when you felt his hand slide along your lower back, meeting his eyes with a burning gaze; you were ready to give whomever touched you hell. He laughed as you relaxed when you realized it was him.

" _No seas tan tensa, es sólo que me_ ," he said with a smirk before glancing out at the dancefloor, examining the other patrons.

"Well you haven't told me anything about what's going on," you took a drink and fixed him with a glare. He thought he was so funny. " _Perdóname por tener a mi guardia hasta_."

“That’s because you haven’t needed to know anything,” he replied, fixing you with a look that told you to drop it, or else. “I tell you what you need to know, when you need to know it. I suggest you enjoy yourself.”

You pursed your lips in frustration and took a large gulp of your drink, deliberately avoiding his eyes. His hand moved further up your back and caressed the nape of your neck.

“ _Ahí está mi niña buena_ ,” he said into your ear again, but this time his fingers were tangling themselves into your hair and pulling slightly, massaging along your hairline. You wanted to whimper, but not in front of all these people. You settled for meeting the smug look on his face with one of your own and setting your drink down. You stood and turned to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him with you into the crowded dancefloor, the smile gracing your face sneaking onto his as well.

Nevada didn’t usually dance, and you couldn’t for the life of you understand why. The man was a wonderful dancer, considerate and full of energy for his partner. He was a bit handsy, though you could understand why. The people moving around you were grinding and touching each other in completely inappropriate ways, and you were no exception. He had told you to enjoy yourself, so you did so the only way you knew how; by winding him up and letting him go.

You pressed your back to his chest and ground your ass into him, making sure to throw a heated glance over your shoulder. His hands went to your hips and pulled you impossibly closer and heat went through you as you felt the beginnings of his erection against you. Your arms went up over your head and back onto his shoulders as you leaned onto him and writhed to the beat of the music, arching your back and singing along. It was loud enough that talking was nearly impossible, so luckily the people crowding around you dancing couldn’t hear the moans escaping from your lips as he whispered filthy words to you and ran his fingers along your waist.

The two of you made several trips back and forth across the floor, refilling your drinks and laughing and flirting amongst yourselves. You proceeded to get more and more tipsy. He, in turn, proceeded to get bolder and bolder with his touches, until he was toeing the line of your public comfort zone. When you turned away from him and grabbed his hand, intending to lead him off the floor again, he pulled you back, landing you hard up against his chest. He locked eyes with you, staring heatedly, and you realized you were pressed up against something else as well as his chest.

“ _Vamos a ir lugar más privado_ ,” he said, quirking an eyebrow and giving you one of those purely evil smirks of his as he brushed a hand along the blush creeping up your cheek.

How could you say no? You nodded and let him weave you through the club, his hand on your lower back to steady you. Heat throbbed through you as your brain conjured up dirty images of what was to come. So this was why he hadn't told you anything; _you_ were his business for the evening. You would have felt touched that he carved out time for you, except you remembered _who_ exactly you were following up the stairs to the VIP section on the second floor. You walked along a long hallway overlooking the dancefloor below before he steered you to the last booth on the end, reserved purely for the two of you.

It didn't have a solid door, just a thick, velvet curtain separating you from the rest of the patrons, and if you were more sober you would have kept your guard up about it. At this point all you could focus on was the intensity of his gaze and how delicious his hands looked holding the fabric aside for you as he guided you inside.

The booth was decorated opulently, more sophisticated and elegant than you were honestly expecting, and your eyes traveled around as much as they could. The lighting was dimmed, as it was everywhere else in the club, but here it was different. It felt warm and welcoming and paired well with the red and black oversized chairs and the gorgeous rich wood of the tables and decor of the walls. You soaked it in, unsure when you'd be back to a place this nice again. It certainly wouldn't be on your dime.

The next thing you noticed as your senses shifted gears was that it was a lot quieter. You could still feel the vibrations from the music in the room below and bits of it still leaked through, but the noise level was manageable. You heard Nevada clear his throat as you were looking around, running your fingers along various things in the room. Turning to look at him, you saw that he had taken a seat in one of the oversized chairs and was lounging, stretching out his limbs and shooting you a look that was pure sin.

You took him in, taking your time brushing your gaze over him as well. His shirt was opened slightly and you ran your eyes over the gleaming cross at his chest and the smattering of dark chest hair. You took in his widened stance, loving how he sat like a complete whore when he was tipsy. You smirked and sauntered over slowly, giving your hips that extra bit of swing you knew drove him wild.

He patted his leg, and you moved to sit on his lap, curling your legs up as you leaned your weight on the arm braced on the back of the chair. He shifted you to sit with your back against his chest and proceeded to pull your body-hugging dress up around your thighs. He smoothed his hands down along your stockings, fingers sliding under the straps that held them in place, and caressed the nylon gently before he pulled your legs apart forcefully to settle outside of his own.

Spread open like this in his lap, in a public business of all places, should have made you blush. But the movement of his fingers as they traced their way back up your inner thighs and pressed themselves to your soaking panties banished the thought from your mind.

He leaned in, his right hand sliding up to wrap lightly around your throat. He held you against himself as his left hand continued to toy with you through the lace of the (expensive) underwear he had bought for you, and you couldn’t help but let out a mewl as his tongue traced the shell of your ear. You could smell the spice of his cologne and your eyes slid closed, feeling his fingers tighten in increments around your neck.

“Go on,” he growled. “ _Bailar para su Papi_.”

You moaned aloud and leaned your head back on his shoulder as you began to writhe to the music flowing into the room from the main floor of the club. While you knew this was reserved for the two of you, you couldn’t help but feel heat lurch through you at the thought of being walked in on. You weren’t big on public sex, but knowing it got Nevada ridiculously hot convinced you to go along with his wishes. And hell, the way he was hardening under your movements may or may not have helped seal the deal for you as well.

You brought your legs back to rest on the cushion outside of his thighs and balanced yourself on your knees, moving your ass up out of his lap. You threw another look over your shoulder at him as you began to swivel your hips, running your fingers painfully slowly up along your thighs and trailing them up to your waist, squeezing where you wanted desperately to be touched. You leaned your head back and slid your hands up over your breasts and neck and through your hair as it fell down your back luxuriously.

Nevada leaned himself forward and reached out, grabbing hold of your hip before you slapped his hand away, moving your legs off of the chair and standing before him. You pulled your dress back down around your thighs as punishment and placed a hand on your hip.

"Naughty, _Papi_ ," you scolded lowly with a sly smile as you watched the heat flare up in his eyes at being denied. " _Usted sabe que no está permitido tocar_."

At this, you pushed back on his shoulders, sitting him back in his chair so you could really get to work. You loved feeling his eyes roam over you as you danced, taking in your curves as you moved for him. Leaning forward so your dress fell lower, you exposed a gratuitous amount of cleavage to him, along with the delicate edging of silk on your bra. His jaw began to work at this, clenching and unclenching as he eyed you up and down, undressing you with his unyielding green eyes. You watched as his fingers began to twitch and tap on the arm of the chair impatiently. To be fair, you _had_ been working him over pretty well since shortly after you arrived. You didn't expect his patience to hold out much longer.

Honestly, you weren't sure how you weren't bent over the chair already at this point.

You began to pull out every trick you could think of, ones you knew made him crazy. You ran your fingers along every inch of your body you knew he couldn't touch, working yourself up and letting out small moans as his eyes burned paths across your skin. You leaned in close to him, your legs coming up to straddle his hips and threaded your arms around his neck.

Apparently that was the sign that the lap dance was over because his hands came up to your hips again, this time pulling you close and grinding you over his clothed cock forcefully, burying his mouth into your neck. He ripped a groan out of you with his teeth, dragging them across your sensitive skin and licking afterwards to soothe.

"Fuck, _te pequeña provocadora_ ," he growled and you gasped as one of his hands came down hard on your ass. It didn't hurt because of the fabric between you, but it sent a jolt of arousal careening down through your stomach.

"You like it, _Papi_ ," you pointed out sassily with a smirk, eyes shining. He smiled, though something seemed off about it, and it frightened you a little.

"I do," he said, untangling your arms from his neck and moving you off of his lap so he could stand. He began to close in, backing you against the wall on each step. "You know what else I like, _cariño_?"

You shook your head in the negative, your shoulders hitting the decadent wood of the wall. His eyes turned dark as he pressed you further against it, flattening his body against yours. His hand traveled south to the juncture between your legs and began stroking lightly through the material as he spoke.

" _Me gusta cuando las putillas como tú deja que te follo contra ellos la pared_."

You moaned as you felt his fingers draw the lace aside and slip along your folds, teasing. You could feel how gloriously wet you were, and you desperately wanted him to keep going.

"¿ _Vas a dejar que te cojo tu, aquí donde cualquiera podía entrar en_?"

You nodded and whimpered as his fingers traced along your clit. You could feel Nevada's smirk against your ear.

"Maybe I'd let them join," he continued hotly and at your sharp intake of breath he plunged two fingers into you, making your head fall back. "Maybe I'd let them fuck you too, _pero sólo si usted era una buena chica_."

You moaned when his other hand came up to wrap around your throat, his thumb pressing into your jugular. Your fingers gripped the lapels of his jacket as he set a quick pace with his fingers. You rocked down onto them hard, trying to gain the friction you needed. He pulled away to look into your eyes as he continued to speak, growling obscenities at you and holding you in place.

Suddenly he withdrew his fingers, lifted your leg, and wrapped it around his waist as he unbuckled and unzipped and pressed his cock to your entrance. You reached down and held your panties to the side as he slid into you wonderfully slow, gauging your reaction. You cried out as he snapped his hips and buried the rest of himself into you in one smooth motion. His hand slapped over your mouth.

"You don't want everyone to hear what a _maldita puta_ you are, do you?" He asked with false concern and you shook your head, eyes rolling shut. You both knew it was unnecessary, the music covered any noise you were making, but he liked to play to your insecurities, and this was a big one.

You breathed in deeply through your nose when Nevada started to thrust and you groaned; you could smell yourself on his fingers. You began to tilt your hips down, trying to match his movements as your own fingers found your clit and circled it, giving yourself pleasure. He glanced down when he felt your hand moving.

" _Eso es correcto, hacer usted mismo el orgasmo para mí_. Soak those panties."

You moaned behind his hand as he spoke and you wound your fingers into the back of his hair, gripping harshly, pulling his head back. His hand moved from your mouth and you took the opportunity to press yourself to the skin of his neck, dragging your teeth across the stubble there. He growled deep in his throat as he thrust faster, whispering profanities to himself as he neared his peak.

That wasn’t going to do. You ground yourself down on him, taking your own pleasure from his motions, growing louder and louder as you neared your own release, your fingers hitting the right spots to kick you over the edge at a moment’s notice.

“Jesus, _Papi_ ,” you breathed. The last syllable stretched out into a drawn out cry as your orgasm hit you hard.

“You just can’t keep fucking _quiet_ , can you?” He smirked as his hand came up to your mouth again, silencing you forcefully.

Your eyes fluttered and he exhaled hard, continuing to move into you as your muscles clenched around him. He pulled out of you suddenly, pushing down on your shoulder, and you fell to your knees. You stared up at him as you took him in your mouth and hands, your adrenaline running high with one goal in mind. He placed his hands squarely on the wall above your head as you laved over him with your tongue, your hand moving at the base of his cock quickly and in time with your lips.

“ _Tal a buena chica_ ,” he purred, his eyes closing and his jaw dropping as his movements began to stutter. A hand came down and tangled itself into your hair as he came, holding you in place.

“Take it all. _Tragarse_.” Warm, bitter salt spread across your tongue and you swallowed, closing your eyes as he cooed to you. His hand released from your hair and stroked along it, dropping down to rest at the nape of your neck once he came down. You ran your tongue along him once more and pulled away from him with a pop, leaning back to rest against the wall as he tucked himself away and re-zipped.

You watched him as you caught your breath and he cursed when you quirked an eyebrow and licked your lips lewdly. He pulled you up and kissed you, hands coming up to caress your face in an act that was almost intimate, despite the fact that you two had just finished fucking. He drew away and searched your eyes as he chuckled, his face morphing into one of those unreadable expressions of his.

“You’re gonna fuckin' kill me, you know that?”

You laughed and slumped against the wall, thoroughly worn out from the evening. At the moment all you wanted was to head back to Nevada’s bed, let him undress you, and crawl under the covers with him. Maybe run your fingers through the hair on his chest.

“You might want to watch your back then.”

He chuckled as he kissed you again, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on tumblr: [[musicalenchantment](http://musicalenchantment.tumblr.com)]. I cry about Raul Esparza and post things.


End file.
